Builders
by Alyssacookie
Summary: In a land with five major cities, there are five leaders. They are the Builders - the most respected and powerful people in the land. Then it all comes crashing down, and the Builders find themselves hunted. They will have to flee their cities, join with new friends and enemies, and take back their homes. AU/Steampunk, kind of. USUK / Gerita / Spamano / Rochu / Giripan and others.
1. Chapter 1

Fontana was the city of beauty.

The buildings were immaculate marble walls, like smooth, pampered skin. Fontana's lifeblood was the clear, calm water than ran through the city, sparkling in the sun that was perched in the afternoon sky. People moved through the city by boat. Their slow, unhurried journeys sent soft ripples cascading through the water.

On one such vessel these ripples lapped at the long, thin fingers tracing the water's edge. A brunette rested his head against the wooden rim. The soft breeze ruffled his hair. His pretty brown eyes drifted shut in the warm embrace of the sunshine.

"Feliciano!"

He lifted his head, blinking languidly into the bright light. The little boat stopped and docked alongside one of the many market streets. Sharp blue eyes, a violent contrast to the caress of the sunshine, stared down at him.

"Ve," Feliciano yawned, "there you are, Ludwig."

Ludwig looked exasperated, but still took the brunette's offered hand to help him out of the boat.

Feliciano marveled at the coarseness of his bodyguard's hands. His own were soft with the faint remnants of paint staining his nails. In contrast Ludwig's palms were thick with calluses and spattered with scars. Feliciano ran his fingers over the wounds, considering. Ludwig tolerated his curiosity for a moment before snatching his hand away, cheeks aflame.

"Is it too hot outside?" Feliciano wondered aloud, cocking his head at the blonde's countenance. He didn't answer. "You should wear lighter clothes," the brunette ventured. His fingers reached for Ludwig's collar before a withering glare reined him back. Feliciano was right about his clothes. Ludwig's perpetual formal state of dress was too heavy, especially compared to his charge's light clothing.

Ludwig coughed uncomfortably. "Don't run off like that," he chastised roughly, regaining his composure and changing the subject.

His response was an unconcerned smile. Feliciano turned instead to the market stalls on the platform before them, decorated brightly in the afternoon light.

The other man pressed his lips into a flat line. Ludwig took a deep breath and let it out. After stamping down his rising frustration with Feliciano's disregard for his own safety, Ludwig trailed him down the walkway and to a stall.

Feliciano began browsing through the paints first. People in Fontana were artists, and most created their own paints. When the excited shopkeep saw Feliciano he started to come out from the counter he was behind. A glower from Ludwig kept the man at a more respectful distance. The brunette remained oblivious.

Colors were grabbed impulsively. When Ludwig noticed Feliciano nearly drop the jars he snatched them from the air. Happily, his charge compared the colors between them. The blonde waited apprehensively. It was strange to see Feliciano so pensive, even for a moment.

"Okay," Feliciano sighed after a few long moments. He bit his lip, eye fluttering up his companions'. "Which ones do you like, Ludwig?"

For someone who lived in Fontana, Ludwig was surprisingly unconcerned with art. "I don't care," he answered gruffly, completely missing Feliciano's disappointment.

The little brunette shook it off. "I think I'll take this one," he decided, picking a crystalline blue, "and this red, since it reminds me of Lovi."

Ludwig's heart jumped to his throat at the mention of Feliciano's twin. While Feliciano was agreeable, if vaguely annoying, his counterpart was an absolute nightmare. They did not share the same good cheer and light, happy tone.

Elizaveta Hedervary, a surrogate mother of sorts to the Vargas twins, offered to accompany the more morose of the two on frequent trips out of the city. Having the two out of town was a mixed blessing. It made Ludwig's life easier but he suspected that it made Feliciano a little lonely.

Uncomfortable at the silence that had fallen between them, Ludwig bent to place the unwanted paints back where they belonged. When he straightened Feliciano seemed to have gotten over his melancholy.

"Hurry up," Ludwig ordered, though there was a noticeable lack of bite to his voice. "I have to have you back for dinner."

The brunette handed him the bag containing his new paints. "Really?" he whined. "I didn't know that it was so late."

After hailing another river boat, the two boarded and headed for the center of the city. They came to a deep, clear pool. All of the rivers in the city were fed by the large body of water. In its center was an island that housed a large, domed building.

Ludwig paid their driver as Feliciano hopped out.

On the inside the capital building was bustling. Fontana, being the city of art, was known for its music, food, and paintings and the very best at their craft dreamed of coming to its capital building. The Vargas family could do all of these things, Ludwig mused as guards moved to allow the pair access to the higher floors.

They were stopped on the stairs. Ludwig cringed inwardly at the sight of the other guard descending the stairs towards them.

"Hey Feli!" he called obnoxiously.

Ludwig sighed. This guard in particular was wholly unconcerned with his discomfort. Judging by the smirk that appeared on the other man's lips, the blonde's reaction was more amusing than anything.

"Hi Gilbert!" Feliciano greeted, oblivious as always.

The red eyed guard met the two on the landing. He snickered at Ludwig's reaction. "Kesese. Lighten up, bruder."

Gilbert had always been the complete opposite of his stern, reserved little brother. The silver haired man almost always sported a wide, mischievous grin. He had known the Vargas family for a long time, and had been given a job the day he returned to the city. The albino had left his younger sibling to be raised by Elizaveta's estranged husband, another man who worked in the capital.

Ludwig still had yet to learn what Gilbert had been doing all that time. Wearily, he tried to sidestep his disruptive sibling. "I will see you at dinner," Ludwig offered. "We can talk then, but as of right now I need to get Feliciano ready –"

This made his brother snicker. "Kesese, bruder, you're supposed to be _protecting_, not _mothering_ the boy," he teased.

Ludwig's face reddened. "I'm not – he's not capable of –" he protests sputtered out as Ludwig stiffened, mortified.

The brunette in question did not seem to be at all bothered by the exchange. Feliciano instead tugged on the crook of Ludwig's arm. "Ve, Ludwig, I want to show nonno my new paints!"

As much as the blonde detested the idea of another detour, he didn't have much of a choice. "Fine," he grumbled. At least it would get them away from his brother. He turned back to Gilbert. "If you'll excuse us," he said politely, going to lead the way up the stairs.

With a knowing smirk Gilbert shifted out of the way. He caught Ludwig's eye one last time before continuing down the stairs.

The pair kept climbing before landing at the uppermost room of the building. With a nod to the guards, Ludwig pushed open one of the doors to the grand room.

Painting and writing supplies were all over the area. Beautiful art hung on the walls, and half finished paintings were seated squarely on easels. Shelves were lined with books on cooking and music or filled with poetry. Everything was polished and clean, though that was more of a testament to the cleaning staff than to the man within.

On a huge bed was another brunette, much older than Feliciano and pale from sickness. He seemed more spry than the day before, however, and his eyes lit of at the sight of the newcomers. Beside him was another man dressed in a doctor's garb with even darker locks. The other man barely spared them a glance.

When Feliciano bounded towards him the man in the bed opened his arms.

"There's my bambino!" he laughed, embracing his grandson cheerfully.

"Ciao, Nonno!" Feliciano greeted happily, snuggling closer.

Ludwig walked towards the two, stopping a respectful distance away. The dark haired man spared him a nod of greeting before waving Feliciano off of his grandfather. "He's almost recovered, Feliciano. Get off, the last thing we need is for you to get sick too," he clucked.

Feliciano removed himself obediently as his grandfather laughed. "Roderich," Veneziano drawled teasingly.

The doctor, Roderich, clicked his tongue against his teeth indignantly.

It was a good thing Veneziano Vargas was so good natured. He was the most respected and influential man in the city, his artistic and political poweress notwithstanding. Veneziano was considered to be the 'Builder' of the city, the political leader of Fontana, chosen because of his great contributions and ability. Ludwig was charged with protecting the far less intimidating Feliciano because he was expected to take over for his grandfather when the time came. His twin did not share the same talents with art or people, and was distant from them both.

A deep laugh shook Ludwig out of his thoughts. "You can come closer," Veneziano offered, looking at Ludwig.

The blonde came a few steps closer. "Sir," he began patiently, handing over the paints that Feliciano had wanted his grandfather to see, "I should be escorting Feliciano to dinner soon."

The older man looked up from appraising the colors. With a smile of approval he gave them over to Feliciano before crossing his arms petulantly. "Ah, you and Roderich are always out to ruin my fun," he grumbled good naturedly. Feliciano giggled.

Feliciano and his grandfather traded goodbye kisses – one on each cheek – before he left with Ludwig.

Dinner in Fontana's capital was always a grand affair. Plates heavy with rich, delicious food were prepared beforehand. Everyone in the building was invited to join in, though the tables were separated according to one's station. The food was passed around between tables and people, spreading the good cheer.

Feliciano's was seated at the head table, though the seats surrounding him were empty – his beloved Lovi was almost never home anymore, and Roderich and his grandfather both abstained the dinners until Veneziano was fully recovered. Even Elizaveta was absent, since she was always away with his twin. Anyone else would have looked lonely amidst the empty seats, but Feliciano still tried to talk with the others at his table, though often their conversation was beyond him.

Much to his chagrin Ludwig was seated with the other guards. His brother was right beside him, looking annoyed as he followed his brother's wary glance. "Stop glaring across the table," Gilbert said, spearing his fork into his brother's food.

Ludwig glared at his brother. He worried for Feliciano constantly, sure that the brunette would find himself in some sort of trouble in the few hours he wasn't by his side.

The other guard rolled his eyes. "That look of yours could age beer," Gilbert joked, much to the amusement of their fellow guards. "Feli will be fine. Eat your food, it's good."

Grumbling, Ludwig looked down at his plate. Something didn't feel right. He started when another fork invaded his meal, clanking against the glass dish.

Gilbert started at his brother, chewing slowly. "This food is pretty awesome," he decided. "If you don't eat it, I will."

Knowing that his brother meant well, Ludwig settled down and began to eat.

He was just finishing up when Gilbert nudged him. "What is he doing?"

Ludwig followed his brother's narrowed eyes back to Feliciano. Another guard was standing beside him, expression severe. He whispered something privately to the brunette. Both brothers looked on as Feliciano's smile disappeared.

Not bothering to hide his sudden alarm, Feliciano pushed back his chair and stood. He said something else to the guard before turning to leave the room.

When the guard followed him Ludwig stood. "Where is he going?" the blonde growled, agitated. "Feliciano's supposed to come and get me –"

Gilbert stood and tugged on his brother's arm. "Come on, let's go after them."

They left the dining hall and followed the sound of their footsteps. It seemed that Feliciano and the guard were up the main staircase. Ludwig and Gilbert followed them all the way up, and arrived at Veneziano's door just in time to see the doors slam shut.

Ludwig tried the knob, confirmed that the door was locked, and banged his other fist against the solid wood.

Both brothers jumped at the sound of something breaking, followed by a blood curdling scream.

"Feliciano!" Ludwig shouted, banging on the door desperately.

Gilbert shoved his brother to the side. He unclipped a keyring from his belt and flipped through the metal keys. Ludwig looked on in confusion. There was simply no way that his brother had a key to Veneziano's private room.

Ignoring his brother's questioning glance, the albino flipped instead to a long, jagged piece of metal. Ludwig watched in confusion as he brother bent down to the lock. Gilbert jimmied the metal in, and after a few long moments there was a soft click. His brother stood, and with a confident smirk tried the lock again. The door opened.

They tried to open it all the way, but it bumped into something and stayed shut. When they pulled back there was a thump, and glassy eyes looked up at them.

It was the guard from before. His throat had been slit, blood leaking from the wound and soaking to his collarbone and clothing. The fabric was saturated with red. Ludwig hesitated only for a moment. Gilbert, however, callously stepped over the dead man and into the room.

It was a mess.

The easels and bookcases were toppled over, though some had been split into pieces. Jars of paint were shattered and leaking onto the floor. Ludwig spotted Feliciano peering at the opened door from the far side of the room, where he had been taking shelter behind one of the toppled bookcases. Roderich was slumped against a wall, unmoving, with his eyes closed and blood dripping from his hairline.

In the center of the room, just in front of the bed, stood a woman. She was gripping a long knife in one hand, though both of her hands were smeared with blood. Her hair was an even brighter red, though, curly and wild like her green eyes, sharp like a cats'.

Gilbert didn't give her a chance to make a move. Instead, he pulled out his pistol and took a shot.

Since he hadn't aimed, the bullet grazed the woman's arm. She hissed and dropped the knife, cupping the wound with her other hand to stop the bleeding that was sure to come. Her eyes quickly darted between Gilbert and Feliciano, who had begun to make his way towards his grandfather's bed in the confusion. The woman took her hand away from her bloodied arm and turned to him.

Gilbert took her decision as an opportunity and ran, tackling the woman into the footboard of the bed. She shrieked as her head smacked against the wood before jerking her knee into his stomach. When he wheezed she grabbed for the gun. He flipped her over just as she grasped it, sending the weapon underneath the matress instead.

"Ludwig! Stop standing there, verdammt! Get Feli and get out!"

The blond shook himself out of his shock. He went to Feliciano and started pulling him away, but the brunette wasn't having it. When Feliciano tore himself from Ludwig's grasp he turned and the guard finally noticed his reddened, teary eyes. Ludwig grabbed him again, but still the brunette lunged to get away. "Nonno!" he cried. "Nonno! Nonno!"

Instead it was Roderich who stirred, groaning as he came to. He took in the scene through fluttering eyes. After a few moments his eyes snapped open, a little hazy, but still as sharp as ever, even behind his broken glasses. "Listen!" he slurred, looking pointedly at Ludwig.

There was a wheeze and a thump from the woman as Gilbert tossed her head first to the floor, and then Ludwig heard them. People were shouting, screaming, as other voices rose above them, loud and firm. Then came the footsteps. They were coming from the stairs.

Ludwig's heart dropped, and from the expression on Gilbert's face he heard them too. "Scheibe," the older of the two cursed under his breath. The woman groaned but didn't get up. Frantic, the silver haired man looked around the room before spotting the laundry chute behind Ludwig.

He ran over, unlocking the chute and directing the pair over. "Here," he grunted, helping Ludwig get the frantic Italian down the drain. Once Feliciano went down Gilbert pushed his brother in after him.

Gilbert hesitated before jumped in after them, instead looking over at Roderich. "Roddy?" he asked hesitantly, listening carefully as the men ascended the stairs.

The dark haired man shook his head before slumping against the wall. "Go."

He smiled grimly. "'Liza's never going to forgive me," the guard grumbled.

"I'll be fine," Roderich growled, slumping back against the wall. "She's…going to need you too, I think."

"Wha –" Gilbert began to ask, but then the door was forced open and he went down the chute, the door flapping closed behind him.

**A/N**

**Hope you enjoyed! I'll try my hardest to respond to every review, and don't worry - there will be a lot more characters and couples in this story. I guess you'll just have to stick around and find out what happens, hm?**

**Just in case anyone is confused, I will clarify about the red-haired woman: she may seem unfamiliar, but there will be no major OCs in this story. There are some other warnings, but you see those next chapter. Probably.**

**Alyssacookie**


	2. Chapter 2

_Splash!_

Ludwig turned, the waist-deep water sloshing around him. The sound of another splash after Feliciano and himself made him tense, staring at the water underneath the tunnel they had dropped out of. Feliciano stopped sobbing for a moment to yelp and come closer to his protector.

They both relaxed when Gilbert emerged from the water. It dripped from his normally shiny hair, the grayed locks hanging heavily in his eyes. Feliciano had since returned to sobbing. The other man swept his heavy locks from his eyes and glared at the crying Italian, his red eyes flashing in the dim light.

Before Ludwig had a chance to react his older brother came over to them and dunked Feliciano underwater.

The blonde pushed his brother away angrily. "What was that?" he snarled, pulling a choking Feliciano from underneath the suface. The brunette took heavy, wet gasps and coughed up water.

"Shut up," Gilbert hissed. "You two are going to lead them straight to us."

His actions had forced Feliciano to stop sobbing, Ludwig noted. The brunette was still trying to catch his breath, and yet stood, glassy-eyed and relatively silent. Ludwig wasn't sure if he wanted that either. Instead he took in their surroundings.

They were in the laundry bay. All laundry chutes led to the room, which had a waterline running through it with grates at both ends. Clothes would drop into the clean water to be washed before being taken out and hung up to dry. At the moment, though, the water they were standing in was clear of clothes. The maids who cleaned the garments were most likely still in the dining hall. They were alone, for the moment.

"We need to get Feliciano out of here," Ludwig decided, looking back at his brother.

The Italian in question shuddered violently, but kept quiet, staring down at the water.

Gilbert chuckled humorlessly. "I'd rather see all of us out of here," he corrected, swimming over to the grate at the far side of the room. He was quiet for a moment as he ran his hand along the metal cover. Then he looked back at his brother. "I have a plan."

He reached underwater and produced a knife from his belt. After taking another moment to find the bolts once more, Gilbert stabbed the knife in and went to work unscrewing them.

Ludwig looked on, and flinched sharply when something bumped against his side. He relaxed once he realized that it was just Feliciano. His charge was still shivering violently. Ludwig tensed once more when Feliciano pressed his own shivering form against his side. Despite his discomfort, he tolerated it, and didn't move as Gilbert continued to unhinge the grate.

Once the last bolt was out the metal sunk to the bottom of the water with a heavy clunk.

The trio found themselves staring down the tube. With the grates removed the roar of rushing water filled the room. It was a long way down, that much was clear, and the water moved much faster downwards.

Ludwig looked at his brother, unsure. "Are you sure about this, bruder?"

Despite everything Gilbert snickered. "Ja, ja," he teased, "we'll be fine." He turned to Feliciano."Make sure you thank Elizaveta and your twin next time you see them."

"Why?" Ludwig answered when the brunette did not respond.

"These bolts," Gilbert explained, nodding towards the sunken grate, "were loose. Lovi used to escape this way when you guys were kids."

"Did Nonno know?" Feliciano asked, his voice small.

The albino grinned. "Of course."

Upstairs, they could hear the shouting voices get louder.

Gilbert's smile disappeared. "I bet they're looking for us," he muttered. Then he looked at the other two. "That's our queue, time to go."

Ludwig ushered Feliciano towards the roaring darkness first, and both brothers were surprised when the normally skittish Italian did not resist. He was shivering wildly, arms wrapped around his body. In the split second between Feliciano and Ludwig's departures, the brothers looked at each other worriedly.

"Shock," Gilbert mouthed.

The blonde went down the tubes next. This time the fall was a lot longer. After a little while of slipping and sliding, Ludwig could not feel anything underneath him at all. He fell through the air before splashing into the pitch-black water below.

It was deeper this time, a lot deeper. When Ludwig didn't feel the bottom he forced himself to swim back up.

When he finally surfaced Ludwig gasped, the fresh air burning his lungs. He drew his hand across his eyes, trying to see in the dark. Another splash came from just behind him. Ludwig ignored it, instead looking around for Feliciano as his eyes adjusted.

The blonde flailed in the water. He didn't see him. Where was Feliciano?

Someone else splashed to the surface behind him. In a panic, Ludwig turned to see his brother. His red eyes cut through the darkness.

Gilbert seemed to be struggling. "Here," he gasped, "you take him. I need to catch my breath."

Ludwig paddled over. With a sinking heart he realized that his brother was trying to heft Feliciano above the water. The Italian was unresponsive.

"Always getting into trouble," he quipped humorlessly, fear turning his stomach.

It was hard to swim while holding the other man. Ludwig made a mental note to take off his heavy, waterlogged clothes at the next opportunity.

His eyes finally adjusted fully. Now Ludwig could see that they were just behind the capital building, trying to keep afloat in the deep pool that surrounded it. Lights shone from the front of the dome and the shouts of men echoed in the darkness. Inside, he could hear screaming.

"Follow me," Gilbert ordered, turning away from the building and swimming towards one of the inlet rivers.

Ludwig did as he was told, shifting Feliciano's dead weight into a more manageable position. They swam silently down the river line.

It was slow going.

They had to stop relatively often. Despite both brothers being in good physical condition, Ludwig could not carry Feliciano the whole way. Gilbert would take the brunette every once in a while so his brother could catch his breath. There were no handholds to rest on since the waterline was so far from the street. It turned out to be a blessing, though, as the overhang enabled them to press to the walls when the unfamiliar shouts and lights came too close.

As they reached the outer limit of the city Ludwig finally spoke up. "Where are we going?" he grunted, too exhausted from treading water to regain his composure fully.

"To the airship docks," Gilbert gasped, sounding just as tired. "Where else?"

He was right. The only way in and out of Fontana was by airship. It was a skybound city, but Ludwig frowned. Whoever had attacked was sure to be watching the docks.

"Just trust me bruder," Gilbert huffed, sensing his sibling's misgivings.

Ludwig didn't have much of a choice.

When they arrived at the docks, they found them swarming with men. They called out to each other angrily, flashlights cutting through the darkness like knives. Merchant and carrier ships were docked and darkened. Displaced crewmembers were milling around or being clustered together by the unfamiliar men. Gilbert ignored his brother's wary glance.

They swam past, keeping to the edges of the water to avoid the searchlights. Eventually the voices died away, replaced by the heavy thrumming of airship motors.

"An airship?" Ludwig acknowledged in disbelief.

Gilbert stopped, and with his brother's help he hefted himself from the water. He kneeled on all fours for a moment on the dry stone ground before gulping heavily and standing on his feet. The albino signaled to his brother to wait before turning and disappearing into the darkness.

Though he wasn't gone for an unnecessary amount of time Ludwig still felt a long, cold wait. He sighed and shifted his hold on Feliciano, trying to relieve his aching, protesting muscles. What was his brother doing?

He didn't know how much time had passed before Gilbert returned. Another man was with him, one who he didn't recognize at all, but he was too tired to care once he realized that the newcomer was there to help. His lungs burned as the two brought him onto dry land, Feliciano beside him.

"Can you walk?" the unfamiliar man asked, cocking his head. His long, blonde hair draped to the side. Ludwig stared, unused to seeing a man with his hair so long. He nodded. "Oui?" the man confirmed. "Oui. Let's go."

It wasn't a long walk before he spotted the airship that had left the thrumming in his ears. The ship wasn't docked like the others; instead it hovered at the edge of city and sky with a rickety boarding dock in between.

Ludwig couldn't make out the details of the ship in the darkness, though its hulking shadow told him that it was a sizeable vessel.

Too tired to ask, Ludwig followed his brother and the unfamiliar man into the darkness inside.

"Fontana has been taken, sir."

"And the Builder?"

"Veneziano Vargas has been disposed of."

"What of his grandchildren?"

"…"

"Where are they?"

"Feliciano Vargas…had escaped. The other one has been located in Polvere."

"Find them both and end them. I won't have my plans ruined by your inability to catch a child."

"Yes, sir."

The dial tone echoed through the room.

When Feliciano came to, all he could see was darkness.

No sunlight warmed his face. It was completely silent. His chest, his heart, ached. Feliciano whimpered and rolled over, burying his face into the softness below and drifting off once more.

He was no more willing to wake up the second time. This time, though, he was met by a sickly-soft yellow light.

The brunette's vision was bleary at first, and when he came to the man yelped. The light flashed off of two pairs of eyes, staring catlike in the darkness. Neither pair was familiar.

One pair decidedly belonged to another person. At his noise of surprise the figure stood, and without a word turned away for the far side of the room. The other pair of eyes stared at him for a bit longer before mewling quietly and going after the figure. There was a sliver of light before he heard the sound of a door closing. Feliciano was alone once more.

He shook from fear, diving underneath the unfamiliar blankets for safety.

When nothing happened the brunette peeked out, looking around the room. The very walls moaned, made from wood and creaking from pressure. In fact, it seemed that everything was made of wood, not just the walls, but the floor, the ceiling, the dresser in the corner – it was all wood. He had never seen so much in one place.

There were also strange, unfamiliar relics scattered around. He didn't recognize most of them, but they all looked expensive – gold and jewels that glinted in the low light of the lantern he spotted on the dresser beside him.

Feliciano dove back under the blankets when the doorknob rattled. He heard it swing open wide, filling the room with light.

There was a bit of muttering, and then – "Feliciano?""

He knew that voice. "Ludwig?" he whimpered, poking his head out to look. "Ludwig!"

It wasn't just Ludwig who entered. With him came Gilbert, along with another man who he didn't recognize. The newcomer didn't seem threatening, with a wide smile of pearly white teeth set against tanned skin. He had brown, messy hair that stuck out from underneath a hat. The feather tucked into the tricornered brim should have looked silly, but somehow it seemed just right. His overcoat was a bright, bloody red – another color he was unused to seeing on clothes, but Feliciano found that he liked that, too.

"Feliciano," he greeted happily. His voice sounded like syrup. Feliciano liked him immediately. "You're awake. Fantastico!"

"This is Captain Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo," Ludwig explained, coming closer.

The Italian blinked owlishly. "Captain?"

Both brothers looked to Antonio. He simply smiled. "This is the _Santa Maria_, my ship," he answered kindly.

"Sí, sí," Feliciano acknowledged, "thank you for helping us." He thought for a moment. "Where did you come from, though? What happened? Where are we going?" the Italian shot off his questions rapidly, realizing that he had no idea.

Gilbert clasped him on the shoulder. "Whoa," he snickered, "settle down. You can ask Ludwig all of that later. We need your help, first."

"Ve," Feliciano murmured, "with what?"

"We're trying to find Lovi," the Captain cut in, looking worried.

"_Lovi?"_ Feliciano echoed, confused at the familiar term for his sibling.

At this the Spaniard smiled. "Ah, no, you see…I am a friend of Lovi's."

The Italian's smile froze uneasily. _Lovi has friends?_

"We need to find Elizaveta too," Gilbert added. He looked at Feliciano. "Do you know where they went?"

"Um," Feliciano drawled, confused.

Antonio's smile turned tense. "Maybe he needs a moment to think, sí?" he suggested, straightening. "I'll be at the helm when you are ready." With that, the Captain swept from the room.

Gilbert shifted uncomfortably, looking between the two and the door the Captain had just left out of. "Just hurry up, ja?" he huffed before following Antonio.

Ludwig looked on as Feliciano sunk back into the covers. "What happened, Ludwig?" he asked, closing his eyes. His voice sounded small.

"You passed out," Ludwig answered roughly, remembering. "Gilbert knew the Captain of this ship, somehow, and managed to get us out…Feliciano?" he barked the brunette's name, alarmed.

The Italian's face was buried in his hands. He hiccuped, trying to swallow his sobs. "N-Nonno," he moaned. Tears spattered on the blankets below.

"He was –?" Ludwig gasped in disbelief. He puttered out uncomfortably and let the Italian cry. So the woman who had fought Gilbert hadn't just killed the guard, she had killed Veneziano too. Whoever had attacked the city no doubt wanted the same for Feliciano. The blonde tensed. He couldn't let that happen.

"We need to get to them before someone else does," he decided, looking at Feliciano.

The brunette looked at his hands. "Elizaveta sent a letter from Polvere. They were on the way back."

Ludwig stood. "That's not so far away," he noted. "We have to tell the Captain."

"Wait!" Feliciano yelped as the blonde turned to go.

Annoyed, Ludwig turned back to his charge. "Ja?" he asked, eager to get going.

"Ludwig," the Italian said, shifting in place. "You don't have to do this."

Blue eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I can't go back home. Nonno is…well, he's not exactly paying you anymore," Feliciano noted, unsure. "You're not really my bodyguard anymore. Why are you still helping me?"

Ludwig wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. Feliciano was right: he didn't _have _to help him at this point. He certainly wasn't getting paid to do so. "I…" his throat felt dry, his face hot. He coughed, straightening. "Your grandfather entrusted me with this job. I will see it through until the end. It is my duty to do so."

The brunette wilted a little. "Oh," he acknowledged, sounding somehow dissatisfied. A moment later, he seemed to have shaken it off and got out of bed. Feliciano smiled brightly. "Let's go find Lovi then," he decided, following the blonde outside.

After a short walk down a hallway lined with doors like his own, Feliciano found himself on the main deck of the airship, exposed to the sky. He longed for a paintbrush. The world above was a brilliant blue and sunny. A slight breeze tussled his hair. He closed his eyes and sighed, smiling.

Ludwig watched him for a moment. The night before still weighed heavily on his mind, yet Feliciano seemed to recover so easily. After another moment the brunette sighed and opened his eyes. "Okay!" he cheered, excited.

They walked directly across the deck to another door on the opposite side of the ship. After going down another flight of stairs the duo found themselves in a large room.

It had three wooden sides including where they had entered. The fourth side was made entirely of glass. An expanse of sky stretched out before them, clouds white and fluffy. Captain Antonio was standing with his back to them, looking out. Beside him was another brunette with downright unruly hair who was controlling the wheel.

Antonio turned as their footsteps echoed on the wooden floor. His expression became ecstatic. "Hola," he greeted, voice chiming like a bell. "Are you ready to go now?"

"Ja," Ludwig answered for them both, "they were last seen in Polvere."

The brunette holding the wheel turned his head to Antonio. "That's not very far," he mused softly.

The Captain smiled. "Ah, gracias a Dios!"

Feliciano stared at the unfamiliar brunette.

As if he knew he was being watched, the man turned his head to the side once more. "I startled you," the man acknowledged, his voice like a sigh. "When you woke up I was to tell the Captain," he offered as explanation as his voice, though still soft, grew into a certain clearness. It was the kind of voice one didn't question.

"Ve," Feliciano twittered with a smile, "it's okay."

"Sí, sí," Antonio hummed, "no need to be afraid of Heracles. You must be hungry, right? We have a bit of a ride before we get to Polvere, Ludwig can take you to the galley."

Now that he thought about it, Feliciano realized that he was pretty hungry. He wasn't sure what time it was and hadn't eaten since the day before. "Do you think they have pasta?" the brunette whispered to Ludwig as they departed. His bodyguard groaned.

Ludwig led the way, unlatching a floorboard that covered a flight of stairs leading down from the weather deck. The stairs creaked underfoot as they went down.

From there it was a short walk to the galley, a room that housed a long, empty table and ornate, mismatched china. There was another section on the far side that was connected to the dining room by a long window. The sound of clanging pots and pans echoed from the inside. Gilbert was leaning against the dividing wall beside the window, looking bored and sipping beer.

"Bruder?" Ludwig asked apprehensively.

His counterpart snickered. "Oh, it's you two. It isn't time for lunch yet. He won't even let me in, can you believe that?" Gilbert cackled and took a swig from the beer that rested on the window ledge beside him. "He says that I'm disruptive, that I ruin his creative mood."

"It's true, you know~," Feliciano jumped as a mop of long, blonde hair popped into view through the window. Sapphire eye appraised his form. "Ooh," he purred, "you're Lovi's brother?"

"He is," Ludwig answered, moving slightly between the two. "Antonio says he needs to eat."

For the second time that day Feliciano found his mind boggled at the familiar use of his sibling's name. Even he really wasn't really supposed to refer to his twin as _Lovi_.

"Ohnhonhon!" the man laughed. "In that case~" he gestured for Feliciano to join him in the back.

Ludwig didn't seem to like it, but he stayed outside with his brother. Gilbert snickered and handed him the beer.

Feliciano scampered to the back. The kitchen wasn't too impressive considering what the Italian was used to, but it was still nice for an airship. It had an oven, an impressively long stove, a huge icebox and a sink. He looked for a pantry but couldn't spot it on a cursory glance.

The man before him smelled like roses. He had a bit of blonde stubble on his chin, but that seemed only to add to the air of elegance surrounding him. He was almost too pretty to be a sailor. When they shook hands, Feliciano's palm was left dusted with flour.

"You know Lovi?" Feliciano asked.

"Oui," the blonde confirmed, "and I've heard a lot about you, Feliciano. I am Francis Bonnefoy."

Feliciano looked around the kitchen. "And you cook?"

Francis laughed. "Non. I don't cook. I make masterpieces, I arrange edible art. I don't _just_ cook, mon ami."

"Art?" Feliciano repeated, interested.

Then his stomach rumbled.

The blonde laughed haughtily, but not unkindly. "Come," he hummed, ushering the brunette in fully, "let's see if we can do anything about that appetite of yours."

**A/N**

**Whew! Sorry that it's been a bit of a wait. Next chapter: they (finally) go to Polvere. I hope they're not too late…**

**Reviews:**

**Sandra DeNite: I'm glad you think my story was interesting, and I'm so happy it caught your attention enough to review! Thanks so much. I hope you liked this chapter too.**

**A pirates life for Bunny: Is this what you expected? I promise it'll be a wild ride! Thanks for the review!**

**Alyssacookie**


	3. Chapter 3

Polvere was a relatively small town.

It was a mining community, the kind of close-knit place where everyone knew one another. People lived in small, simple houses scattered around the town's main street. All of the shops and important buildings were situated along that wide, dirt-packed road. Everything in the town was coated with a fine layer of dust. On days when the wind blew too harshly, the people pulled their dust cloths over their mouths and noses and continued about their business. Those who were born and raised in Polvere were hardy. They had skin and souls that had weathered the elements and hair as dark as coal.

Most everyone worked in the Polvere quarry mining marble. Being a satellite town of Fontana, they depended on the major city for many things, particularly the trade that the bigger city offered them. Polvere recieved much needed goods in return for their marble, which Fontana put to good use. People from Polvere appreciated the relationship since gardens and farms didn't tend to thrive in the dusty town.

Polverians absolutely adored Veneziano Vargas. Along with designing the mutually beneficial trade relationship between the two cities, the Builder of Fontana freely commissioned works for the city. Most recently he had taken part in building a hospital. It was far more advanced than anything else in town, with several floors made from imported wood and stone. Fontana's best architects were put on the job. Like Fontanian buildings, the hospital also featured a great deal of marble decoration. The building stood at the far end of Polvere's main street, gleaming brightly in the sun.

So when visitors appeared in town claiming to have come from Fontana the natives thought nothing of it. They weren't exactly welcoming, as Polverians tended to keep to themselves, nor were they openly hostile. Most people seemed indifferent to their presence.

Now the two newcomers were in Polvere's general goods store. One woman stood behind the abandoned pay counter, her cheek pillowed into her palm as she leaned into the sunshine. The sun came in muggy, sluggishly warming the grimy windows. Unconcerned, the woman cocked her head, her long, chestnut hair flowing over the wood like a shining river. She sighed.

Another woman, darker in both complexion and countenance, rolled her eyes. "If you're so bored," she snapped, looking back at the older woman from the corner of her eye, "you can come over here and do this youself."

Elizaveta Hedervary perked up with a warm smile, sunshine radiating from her features. "Always so angry, Lovina," she teased with half lidded eyes.

Across the room Lovina Vargas scoffed. "If you wanted rainbows and sunshine you should have stayed home with Feliciano."

The other woman looked at her companion, green eyes considering. "Why would I do that," she hummed, coming from behind the counter with her sharp eyes still locked on, "when being here with you is so much fun?"

"Yeah," Lovina snickered humorlessly as she emptied the final drops of a gasoline can onto the floor, "fun."

Elizaveta slid over, readying the shotgun that had previously been strapped to her back. "Do you think that is enough?" she asked innocently, wide eyed.

Dimmed brown eyes, so listless they were nearly gray, traced the shining trail of petroleum that wound around the goods and shelves before landing on Elizaveta's eyes once again. "You're an arsonist," she grumbled, averting her eyes from her mother figure.

Shaking her head, Lovina tossed the can away. It clunked emptily against the previous four. Outside the chaos that had begun in the tavern reached her ears, people yelling as the sound of gunfire filled the air. Somehow the mess had grown. Whoever had attacked them before had apparently not been the only ones. She was running out of time.

"It's enough," she decided.

With a short nod, Elizaveta raised her gun and aimed for the shining tail of the trail.

Lovina wasn't usually the type to be grateful. Though when both she and Elizaveta were tossed across the hard, dusty ground ten seconds later the brunette was extremely grateful that they chose to wear pants instead of proper ladies' skirts. It made the ungraceful landing _that _much less painful.

Her ears rang, the pain shooting straight into her skull. Everything around her was blurry and shining as Lovina tried to get herself together amidst the sudden sensory overload. She was sprawled on the ground, flung away from the sudden wreckage and flames. The debris had come with her. As much as it hurt, Lovina was nearly grateful when she blacked out.

Ludwig yanked Feliciano away from the porthole windows when the building underneath exploded, sending a ferocious plume of flames into the sky. He threw the smaller man to the floor before hitting the deck himself, shielding the brunettes smaller form with his own. As he did so the windows lining the dimly lit hallway shattered, compromised by the sudden heat and pressure.

As the glass tinkled to the ground around them the blonde removed himself and pushed against the opposite wall. He glared at the broken glass littering the floor, trying to think past the sudden pink that had bloomed across his cheeks.

His actions left a stunned Feliciano in the middle of the hall, completely untouched by the sparkling shards around him. He sat up, rubbing his arm from where it had been crushed against the floor, between his side and the hard metal. When he looked up at the sun his eyes sparkled, too. "Hm," he hummed, getting to his feet and making the short walk over to his bodyguard. Ludwig stiffened as the brunette began running his fingers through his hair, trying to get the glass shards out.

Feliciano jumped away a little when the blonde jerked away, the pink hue that had been settling morphing into an embarrassed red. He pulled his hand away and rested the pair in his lap as he slid down the wall beside his flustered bodyguard.

"Grazie Ludwig," he said happily, looking out over the glass. "Boy~" he twittered, "that could have been messy!"

"It is a mess," the other man replied humorlessly, focusing on the glass as he swiped the shards from his hair. When he inevitably cut his palm the man hissed and brought the blood-stained finger to his lips. Feliciano looked like he wanted to laugh. Against his will Ludwig's skin flushed even darker, hot with embarrassment. "Ja," he sputtered, "we should get to the deck, then. I would imagine that we're landing soon."

They ended up touching down just on the outskirts of Polvere. As Ludwig predicted, the entire crew met on them on the deck with Antonio, waiting for orders. Both the captain and Francis were now outfitted with guns, a pistol and a revolver, respectively. Gilbert appeared alongside the other two sporting a more sizeable repeater rifle and another pistol. To Ludwig's surprise his brother's smaller gun was given to him.

"Let's not waste anymore time," Antonio began, addressing the assembled men. "I'm sure that you all saw the situation in Polvere on the way in, much like I did. Gilbert and Francis will come with me. Ludwig will stay here –" he paused, and was satisfied with the blonde's affirming nod, "to protect Feliciano. Heracles will stay on board with you two in order to pilot the ship in case of an emergency." Then he turned to Heracles. "If we are not back within the hour, please be prepared to do a flyover. Sí?" The quietest member of the ship agreed silently.

"You're not bringing your battle axe, Antonio?" Gilbert asked teasingly, a glint in his eye. "That thing is awesome."

"Lo siento, I know, but La Hacha will be sitting this one out. She is better suited for…other activities."

Ludwig tensed. The captain's eyes had flickered to him.

"It's time to go," Francis announced, returning the pocket watch he had been checking to his vest pocket. "We wouldn't want to keep _cher Lovina_ waiting, non?" he pointed out with a wink to his brown haired friend.

Gilbert snorted. "Between her and 'Liza, it's the other guys we need to worry for."

The situation in Polvere looked far worse once they hit the dirt ground.

As they wound through the outskirts of the town, the trio could see that the outlying houses were damaged. Doorframes were cracked, their doors missing or broken. Glass windows had been bashed in. The walls they could see were riddled with bullet holes. People were either running way from the center of town, the chaotic main street, or towards it, armed with pickaxes and hammers.

Once at the main street the chaos was acute. The rapping of bullets resounded through the air. People clashed, tools against the firepower of their attackers. Luckily the guns weren't terribly accurate or easy to reload. Sometimes the townspeople we able to overrun an attacker. On the other side of the street a family might get mowed down. Blood painted and clotted on the dusty town streets.

Francis motioned the other two away, pointing instead to the back door of a nearby building. They avoided the fights by slipping in that way, successfully skirting by the bloody main street.

It took the combined efforts of both Antonio and Gilbert to force the door open. Debris blocked the way, most notably a support beam from the low-hanging ceiling above the door. Half of it was still affixed to the rafters and it split with a satisfying crack.

"Hey," Gilbert cheered, "free beer!"

They had stumbled into the town's abandoned tavern, it seemed. From what could be seen upon a first glance, the place was trashed. It wasn't quite the level of mess that might come from a common bar fight – and the trio had seen their fair share of those –, instead it far surpassed it. Tables and chairs were overturned, daggers and bullets sunken into the wood. Shattered windows cast sharp, jagged teeth upon the building's murky floors.

Appearances made the place seem abandoned, but that wasn't necessarily true. There were bodies everywhere.

It did little to bother Gilbert, who simply stepped over the downed bartender on his way to his prize. The other two men took a look around. Most of the corpses were scattered haphazardly. Some were in chairs but then others were in the oddest places: slumped over tables and in corners, hung over the rails of the stairs and second floor. They ignored the blood pooling at their feet from some of the messier remains.

A good amount of the victims seemed to be from Polvere, sporting the telltale dark features and rural clothing. Other bodies were better dressed, in vests and suits and ties. Their deaths were almost never from bullets – one was found with the blunt tip of someone's pickaxe embedded in his back.

"Mon ami!" Francis called to Antonio, who was apprehensively inspecting one of the many dark haired women. "Come, look at this."

The Spaniard joined him. "Sí?"

Francis motioned to the short-haired blonde man at the table before them, who was seated face down on the wooden surface. The back of his head was sticky, the hair dyed and matted with blood. A pistol had fallen to the floor beside him, just below his limp fingers.

His other hand was married to the table, stabbed through with a knife.

The French man reached out and extricated the weapon, the metal jerking free of the wood and skin. He plucked a cloth napkin from the table to wipe off the obscene blood. When he completed the task, Francis inspected the hilt more closely before passing it to Antonio.

"Notice anything special?"

Antonio turned the knife over in his hand. The handle was made of pure white marble and etched with gold. "It is very pretty," he commented, unsure. He handed it back. Francis liked shiny things; he figured the blonde should keep it.

Surprisingly the other man accepted the knife with a laugh. "Well, you're not wrong mon ami. This," he continued as he held the knife up so it flawlessly shone in the fractured sunlight, "is an ornamental knife. It's too dull for practical use. Considering how gaudy it is, I'm willing to bet that such a thing doesn't belong to anyone here. If I'm right about the design – and I know I am, this knife is from Fontana."

"Lovi?" Antonio voiced incredulously, staring at the knife.

Gilbert reappeared, cradling a few extra bottles in the crook of his arm. "Man," he began, giving a low whistle, "that chick is crazy."

When Lovina finally came to, she immediately began hacking up the dust and smoke that had invaded her lungs. The force made her stomach convulse, and she squeezed her watery, burning eyes tight.

"Why," she wheezed, her throat dry, "the _fuck_ didn't Elizaveta warn me about that?"

"I didn't know," another voice croaked back from above.

Lovina groaned, trying to look up into the too-bright light. Elizaveta was standing in front of her, gun reaffixed to her back. Her clothes were torn and her skin was grimy. Somehow, though, the dirt only served to make her eyes look even brighter. She stood above the other woman looking for all the world like a deranged warrior queen.

It hurt to look. The brunette flopped back down, the debris beneath her clanking painfully.

After a moment the younger girl gave a heavy sigh. Determined not to look like a fool, Lovina struggled to her hands and knees. She put one limb up at a time. When she reached her left leg, though, the wind rushed out of her violently and she jerked back to the ground with a cry of pain.

Elizaveta's expression immediately went from patient anticipation to worry, and she circled around the fallen brunette to look for the problem. Lovina didn't see the usually confident woman bite her lip. "Oh," she twittered worriedly.

"What?" Lovina snapped, irritated by both embarrassment and pain.

"Your leg…" the older woman trailed off. Lovina heard the debris shift underfoot as Elizaveta crouched down. "There's a pretty nice sized cut in it."

"_Fuck,"_ Lovina hissed, the wound brought to her attention by the sudden, sharp pain that spasmed up her leg.

Elizaveta cooed suddenly, patting the back of the girl's uninjured thigh. "I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely, "but I needed to get that metal out of there."

She came back around to her fallen friend's front. The older woman crouched down, resting her elbows on her knees. "Alright," she began decidedly, "I'm going to help you up in just a moment. Be careful, we need to treat this before going anywhere else."

"We'll have to go to the hospital," Lovina wheezed, immediately realizing how dangerous that would be.

Without answering, Elizaveta looked at the brunette sympathetically before standing to help her up. Lovina couldn't help yelping as her leg protested to the sudden weight. Beside her, the motherly woman shifted to take some of her load. Despite Elizaveta's protests, Lovina craned her neck to look at the wound.

It was deeper and longer than Elizaveta had made it sound. It certainly didn't cut to the bone, but it was a long wound, going from the junction of her knee nearly to her ankle. The skin was split like fruit. On the inside it was dirty and oozing dark, thick blood.

Lovina felt the blood drain from her face.

"Hurry," Elizaveta urged, "we managed to kill the ones who had spotted us before in the explosion, but it's only a matter of time –"

"Hey!"

"Who's that over there?"

"You two, stop right where you are!"

Elizaveta looked jerkily towards the shouting voices, her countenance darkening. She watched through the smoke for a heartbeat as the men began picking their way through the smoldering wreckage surrounding them. They were still pretty far off. "I know this is going to hurt," she ventured, trying to console the woman beside her, "but we need to get moving."

Gritting her teeth, Lovina pulled forward. "Come on," she hissed, wincing at the pain.

They didn't look back, instead ducking into the first building they found. Once inside, Elizaveta immediately directed them both to a supply closet embedded into the wall to hide. She shut the door.

"What was that?"

Both women froze. Elizaveta recovered first, unstrapping her shotgun and pointing it at the closed door as the handle turned.

Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert left from the front door of the tavern. The smoke and dust kicked up by the recent explosion was a lot thicker there, pouring into the streets.

Coughing, they ducked into the next building they saw. Produce stands stood, row upon row, full of imported fruits and vegetables. It was completely silent, and appeared to be as abandoned as many of the other buildings.

From the back of the room came the click of a door.

"What was that?" Gilbert asked sharply, drawing his gun alongside the others.

"Why don't you go check?" Francis quipped quietly.

The albino glared at his friend. "Why don't you –"

"Why don't you both go?" Antonio suggested warmly. "I'll watch the door."

It wasn't really a question.

The women tensed as the door creaked open. Elizaveta narrowed her eyes, her finger on the trigger.

They both sighed in relief when they saw who it was.

"A kid," Lovina voiced, sounding relieved.

So it was. The poor little boy couldn't have been any older than ten. He stared at the woman with the gun, eyes impossibly wide.

Elizaveta lowered her gun and set to work helping Lovina out of the closet. Just as they collected themselves, a woman came running from the center of the room.

"Alan!" she cried. "Don't go running away from me like that." When she spotted the other two, she froze, straightening from where she had crouched to inspect her child, standing very, very slowly.

A checkered handkerchief held back her dark hair, the same pattern as her apron. She twisted the fabric in her fist, looking wildly between the two unfamiliar women.

"We didn't mean to scare you," Elizaveta admitted apologetically, hefting her gun back across her back. The woman stared at the weapon before letting out a shaky breath.

She took her son's hand and eyed them warily. "Listen," she sighed, "I don't know…if you're good people or not, but thank you." She gulped them, eyes wandering back to the gun. "Thank you for not shooting my son."

Elizaveta smiled softly. "I understand. We won't tell anyone that you're here. I'm just trying to get my friend here to the hospital."

The woman looked over Lovina, absorbing the annoyed girl's withering glare. She raised her eyebrows but said nothing before stepping aside.

As Elizaveta led a limping Lovina to the door the woman's eyes trailed to the injured leg.

"Use the air vents," the woman suddenly barked, causing the departing pair to turn.

Lovina narrowed her eyes suspiciously as the woman came closer.

"Here," she said brusquely, digging two cloths from her apron pockets and handing them to Elizaveta. "About the air vents…we're always in there repairing the cooling system. The grates are probably loose." The woman looked on guardedly as Elizaveta affixed one of the cloths first over Lovina's nose and mouth before tying her own. "It's not much protection…" she admitted, almost sounding apologetic.

"Oh," Elizaveta cut in cheerfully, waving off the woman's uncertainty. "This will help us more than you know. Thank you."

The woman waited until the door closed behind them before returning to her hiding place.

On the opposite side of the street, the closet was empty.

"What the fu –" Gilbert growled, features twisting apprehensively.

_Bang!_

Both Francis and Gilbert turned back to the main room where Antonio was putting his pistol away. On the far wall nearest them was a red haired man who slumped against the wall and slid down, a line of blood painting the surface.

Without further ado, Antonio strolled up to the dead man, his leather boots tapping loudly on the floor in the regained silence. He bent to rummage through the man's pockets. "Aha!" he cheered, producing a radio communicator. He turned the dial at the top, and it crackled to life.

Francis looked on in interest as Gilbert leaned in, trying to hear through the curtain of static.

"…was spotted going into the evacuated hospital. I repeat, subject was spotted going into the evacuated hospital, accompanied by another woman. We have reason to believe her companion is armed. Proceed with caution."

**A/N**

**Surprise! Fem!Romano, because I love me some Lovina Vargas. ;) She is one of two genderbent characters in this story. The other will be fem!Japan, because the lovely Sakura doesn't get **_**enough**_** love. I hope no one minds too much, as these are purely stylistic choices. I hope you enjoy the story anyway! Stick around, I already have most of the next chapter written already.**

**AND REVIEW. OMG.**

**Speaking of which-**

**A pirates life for Bunny: I wonder what you thought would happen in Polvere! I hope you're not disappointed…**

**Sandra DeNite: Thank you! I'm glad that you're excited, interested, and happy! It makes me happy. :)**

**Through Different Eyes: I'm glad you're in love with this story! And thanks for the review, haha.**


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